


Breaking The Rules

by winterwaters



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Close Quarters, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Future Fic, Meddling, Mild Sexual Content, Scheming, Sexual Tension, cursing, faking it because that always works right, just silliness, the others made them do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 14:50:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3814507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwaters/pseuds/winterwaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the distant future, Bellamy and Clarke get locked in a room together by their friends, who refuse to let them out until they admit their feelings - and in the process, jump each other - rather loudly. Realizing they’re stuck, they try to fake their way out of it. It doesn’t go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking The Rules

**Author's Note:**

> Just something silly I couldn't get out of my head. Happy Friday! Hope you enjoy!

_”Raven!”_

Bellamy’s voice rang out angrily, the sound echoing in the small room as Clarke tried the door handle again, jiggling it in vain. Next to her, Bellamy banged on the heavy steel, knuckles rapping so hard she thought there might be bruises left over. “I swear to god, if you don’t let us out _right now--_ ”

“What?” Raven challenged from the other side. “You’re gonna do _what,_ exactly?”

When Bellamy looked like he was about to try something very stupid, Clarke grabbed his arm before he could hurt himself. “Come on, Bellamy, stop. You know that’s not how to get through to her.”

“I don’t particularly care about getting _through_ to her, I just care about getting out!”

“So do I,” she insisted. “Just… hold on, alright? There has to be some kind of explanation. She wouldn’t have done this without a reason.”

He huffed and turned away, raking his hands through his hair in frustration. Clarke wouldn’t have been surprised if steam emitted from his ears. She put her ear back to the door, determined to get to the bottom of this ridiculous situation without losing her mind.

That lasted all of four seconds. 

Any hope of surviving this with rational thought pretty much got stomped on when she heard muffled whispers outside. _What the hell?_ Clarke's mind whirled. There were _others_ with Raven? Nostrils flaring, she strained to listen in, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the door handle with extra force. Try as she might though, all she could hear was hushing and the occasional snigger. She seethed, her temper flaring quickly at the realization.

Those _idiots._ This had been entirely intentional. Planned, even.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She shouted loudly, making Bellamy flinch in surprise. “Who else is out there?” She demanded, and his eyes widened. He came to stand next to her again.

“I don’t think that’s any of your-”

“Raven,” Bellamy growled, “who the _fuck_ is out there? I want every goddamn name so when this door opens I can make sure you all get latrine duty for a month.”

“You’re not leaving until the two of you figure your shit out!” 

Clarke traded a roll of her eyes with Bellamy at the sound of Wick’s voice. Of fucking course _Wick_ was here. She should have known. Where Raven went, so did Wick. Kyle. _Whoever_ he was today.

“Oh Wick, I can’t _wait_ to see you in medical tomorrow,” Clarke sang out, falsely cheerful.

There was a long pause. “I… I’m not hurt, though,” he replied slowly.

“Not _yet,_ ” she threatened. Bellamy held his hand up for a high five with a grin.

“Atta girl,” he whispered, eyes twinkling, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Nice try Clarke,” Raven cut in again. “But like it or not you two are stuck in there until I get some clear-cut evidence that you’ve stopped being in denial about how you feel. And by clear cut, I mean, I better hear you loud and clear!”

“Oh my god.” Mortified, she put her head in her hands. That was literally the last thing she ever wanted to be told out loud - and within earshot of Bellamy, no less while she was trapped in a room with him with nowhere to run. Next to her, Bellamy swore under his breath. A quick peek showed the tips of his ears turning red. 

“Or until you have some god-awful sex hair,” Wick added loudly, and _oh,_ he was going to be in medical for several days when she was through with him. It was still a full two minutes before either Clarke or Bellamy could meet each other’s eyes.

“What now?” He finally asked quietly.

Desperate, Clarke tried a different tactic. “Octavia!” She prayed his sister was out there. Wait, who was she kidding? She probably orchestrated the entire goddamn thing. “Are you hearing this shit? This is _your brother_ we’re talking about!”

“Octavia left five minutes ago.” It was Monty who informed her, somewhat meek. “She said all she wanted was to get you two inside.” Which, she had most certainly done, with her whole _Clarke, come quick, Bell’s hurt_ act that had Clarke’s heart in her throat for a good ten minutes as she raced over to the bunker.

She knocked her head against the door repeatedly, exhaling sharply. "Of course she did."

Her forehead stayed pressed against the cool steel, unwilling to bother deciphering Bellamy's reaction to his sister's actions. It would only distract her from the problem at hand. There had to be _something_ that could get them out of here without resorting to… no, she was definitely _not_ going to think about that. But of course, with Raven’s words ringing in her mind, that seemed to be all her brain - and the rest of her body - could focus on. 

She still couldn’t believe the others had conspired to do something this boneheaded. Yeah, she and Bellamy weren’t exactly the same as they used to be, but that was sort of to be expected seeing as they’d been apart for nearly half a year. As far as she was concerned, that was the _only_ reason things were different. 

Not because his closeness suddenly made her senses go haywire, or because the mere brush of his skin against hers sent sparks sizzling through her body, or because the one and only time he’d hugged her after she returned she’d wanted to melt into him until he never let go. 

Yeah, none of those things were making it weird at all. _Keep telling yourself that, Griffin. Maybe one day you’ll believe it._

After a few minutes of silence on both sides of the door, she glanced up to find Bellamy’s expression oddly thoughtful, his forehead creased in a familiar sight. “What are you thinking?” She asked.

His gaze flew to hers. There was a strange light in his eyes now, and beneath the hesitation she saw curiosity and… was that longing? No. No, it couldn’t be.

Could it?

A muscle ticked in his jaw. Bellamy looked at the door, at the ground, back at her. Then he repeated the motion again, slower. It was all very disconcerting. “Maybe we should just get it over with,” he finally said, and her mouth dropped open in shock.

“Come again?” She managed.

“You’re the one who said getting angry wouldn’t help,” he replied. “So we may as well give her what she wants.”

Clarke gulped and took a step backwards just as he took one forward. “I… uh… that’s probably not the best-”

Bellamy stopped moving as soon as he saw the panic flare on her face. He rolled his eyes. “Come on, princess, use that brain of yours. I mean, let’s fake it.”

Now she was thoroughly confused. “What? But you said-”

“I’m saying, let’s just make it sound like we’re doing… _something,_ so that they go away, and then we can just hang out until they come back and unlock the door.” At her disbelieving stare, he rubbed his neck a little sheepishly but glared right back. “You got a better idea? Cause I’m all ears.”

She didn’t. She didn’t have a single fucking idea because her brain had essentially shut down the moment he’d said _get it over with_ and so now she was going to have to do this, and _fuck--_

“Alright,” she squeaked. “Uh… how- how should we start?”

Bellamy shrugged. “You go first. Just, you know, make a noise or something.”

“O-oh. Right.” Clarke forced herself to breathe, then gave a weak, “uuuhh”, wincing immediately. Bellamy snorted with laughter, bracing his hands on his knees. 

“Damn, Clarke,” he chuckled, eyes crinkling. “I know it’s been a while, but I didn’t think it had been _that_ long since you had a good time with someone.”

She forgot her shyness and shoved at his chest, her cheeks heating in embarrassment. “Shut up! As if _you_ could make it sound better.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I could get you to be _much_ more convincing,” Bellamy said, and okay, that was totally not what she’d meant at all, but his remark set her blood boiling nonetheless. She tried to ignore the way her heart began to pound at his rakish grin.

Crossing her arms defiantly, she sniffed, doing her best to sound unimpressed. “I highly doubt that.”

Bellamy’s eyes flashed at the challenge in her voice. This time she made herself stay where she was when he moved closer, one step after another until he was close enough for her to feel his warm breath fanning her cheek when he leaned down. For a moment, he didn't do anything, just looked at her with those inky black eyes that she wanted to drown in. By now her heart had reached a gallop, regardless of the fact that he hadn't even touched her yet. _Traitor!_ her brain screamed.

As if Bellamy had heard her thoughts, he finally reached out. Deliberate as ever, he pulled at her arm until she loosened her stance, and then touched his lips to the racing pulse at her wrist.

Her legs turned to jelly. A surprised breath flew past her lips and Bellamy smiled against her skin, dark eyes still locked on hers. 

Without warning, he curled an arm around her waist and yanked her close. Clarke yelped, making him chuckle lowly as she hung onto his jacket. She barely had time to recover from his dizzying proximity before he ducked to graze his mouth along the skin under her ear. An electric shock traveled all the way down to her toes and she moaned, the sound echoing loudly in the empty space. _”Bellamy.”_

Almost immediately, Bellamy drew back, a smirk planted firmly on his face, though his eyes still burned a hole right through her. Her mouth dropped open. 

“Not fair,” she accused, a tad too breathily. “You cheated.” 

He laughed. “You _would_ say that. Because everything has to have rules, right princess?”

Clarke scrunched her face in irritation. It still wasn’t fair. But neither of them had exactly moved yet, either. He still had his arms around her, and she was still clinging to his coat collar. Looking up at his cocky expression, she realized - two could play at this game.

“Well,” she began slyly, “it shouldn’t sound like I’m having all the fun.” She grinned when his eyes widened in comprehension.

Then she stretched to her tiptoes and kissed him. 

It honestly wasn’t as daring as she’d hoped for, seeing as she was shaking from nerves and probably a little too eager, and so their noses were sort of mashed together as her lips tried to learn his in a far too short span of time. Despite all that, it had the desired effect. 

Bellamy responded instantly and more than enthusiastically, a low groan rumbling from his throat as his mouth opened under hers. Even though she'd made her point quite thoroughly, she couldn't quite bring herself to stop just yet, too occupied with the feeling of his soft lips upon hers. It was only when a reciprocating moan tried to wind its way out of her throat that she was jolted back to her senses. 

Triumphant - and completely out of breath - Clarke pulled back with a smirk. Bellamy blinked slowly, dark lashes sweeping his cheek as he tried to regain some semblance of control. 

“How’s that for breaking the rules?” she asked smugly.

Instead of the indignation she’d been expecting, a joyful grin split his face. “Fucking perfect,” he breathed, then kissed her cheek with surprising tenderness, and all pretense flew out the window. “Just like you, princess,” he sighed. “Perfect.”

She was taken aback at the pure honesty in his voice. “I’m not-” she began, but he cut her off by pressing his mouth to hers again. Just a quick touch, soft and insistent, but it was enough to silence her for a good moment.

“I don’t mean perfect as in without flaws,” he said softly. “I know you, Clarke. I’ve seen it all. The good and the bad. And to me, that’s what makes you perfect.”

Clarke stared up at him, slightly awed and more than a little in love. “Where did you even come from?” She breathed. He chuckled softly and kissed her nose. Her fingers wandered over the outline of his face, tracing the features she already knew better than her own. “Bellamy Blake is a romantic. Who knew?”

Bellamy smiled, unconcerned, and brushed her hair back, winding his fingers through the strands. “Now, you do.” He leaned close again. “So what do you say we make our so-called friends _really_ regret this?”

He wiggled his eyebrows devilishly, the promise in his smile making Clarke nod frantically until their lips met again.

And this time, boy was it a kiss. Bellamy’s lips slanted warmly over hers, somehow yearning yet patient all at once. She did her best to respond in kind, trying to tamp down on her own greedy urges and just savor the fact that she was kissing him, _kissing Bellamy._ It made her sigh happily, and she felt him smile against her mouth as if he knew her thoughts. He tightened his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him. Unwilling to be outdone, Clarke sank her hands into his soft curls, nails rasping along his scalp like she’d always wanted to. The way he hummed told her she should do it again. 

Bellamy was a fantastic kisser. _Of course_ he was. It simply wasn’t fair at all, she thought dazedly. Then his tongue was sweeping along her lips, begging for entrance, and she stopped thinking altogether.

When they finally parted for breath, only their mouths were willing to separate. Clarke’s arms still circled his shoulders; Bellamy’s still enfolded her waist. She stared up at him, trying to heave in air while at the same time having her breath taken away once more at the sight of his full, red mouth and wild hair. Oh, she was totally going to make sure he had some kind of sex hair when this was over.

“Is that so?” Bellamy asked, eyes glittering in amusement.

 _Oh my god._ She’d said it out loud. Clarke reddened and tried to pull away, but he refused to let her. To her surprise, he only said, “Let’s make sure it goes both ways,” and reclaimed her mouth again for a few moments, sucking on her bottom lip until a whimper flew past her teeth.

“I always thought you’d make the best kinds of noises,” Bellamy murmured. “Good to know I was right.”

She didn’t have time to blush again, too focused on his first few words. “You’ve thought about this?”

He lifted an eyebrow, almost as if to say, _duh_. “You haven’t?”

Clarke swallowed. “Of course I have,” she whispered, feeling her face overheat. “I just- you-” The words wouldn’t come.

But Bellamy only smiled and leaned down to trail his lips along her jaw. “I thought about what you’d sound like when I did this,” he took her skin between his teeth, “and this,” he sucked directly over her pulse, “and this” one big hand slid under her shirt, grazing the skin at her hip. Clarke’s back curved like a bowstring, his name spilling from her mouth with every sigh.

Bellamy lifted his head and kissed her again, softly this time. “I thought about what you’d look like under me,” he whispered, and Clarke moaned into his mouth at the thought. The kiss became needy, tongues plundering and hands wandering with less hesitation as they both began to give in to desire.

In the rare moment that she regained her mental facilities, she panted, “Who says you get to be on top?” 

He grinned delightedly and dropped his forehead to hers. “Who says _you_ do?”

“Fine. We’ll take turns,” she said, and he laughed and kissed her again until she was thankful for his arms holding her up.

Bellamy’s lips brushed along her forehead, the corners of her eyes, the tip of her nose. Then he cheekily asked, “Who gets to go first?” 

Her eyes cracked open to narrow at him. “Whoever stops asking stupid questions,” she retorted.

He shut up pretty quickly after that. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say the same for herself, as Bellamy took special pleasure cataloguing her every reaction, resulting in several embarrassing statements spilling from her mouth to the point that she hoped, _prayed,_ that nobody was still listening outside the door. By the time he settled over her, she was begging him to _hurry up_ and greedily kissing the cocky smirk off his lips.

She did finally get her turn later, during which she let it slip that she _really_ liked his hands, and so afterwards Bellamy put said hands to use, mapping a deliberate trail all over her body. Then his fingers sank between her thighs, stroking firmly as she quivered underneath him. His mouth swallowed every sound she made like it was the best kind of secret, until it simply lapsed into his name over and over, and hell, he decided that was pretty wonderful too. In turn Clarke simply had to discover for herself where the rest of his freckles made an appearance, after which she proceeded to trace them with her tongue until he couldn’t see straight.

By the end of it all, they were left with quite spectacular sex hair, if she did say so herself.


End file.
